


Please Come Home For Christmas

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, I Tried, I might be way off with this, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Episode: s09e09 Holy Terror, Psychological Trauma, Season/Series 09 Spoilers, Sexual Content, Swearing, triggers (probably not but just in case)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 04:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Bradbury comes back from Oz to surprise the boys on Christmas morning. But the surprise is on her when the bunker's atmosphere and its occupants are everything but festive.</p>
<p>Set in the aftermath of episode 09x09, Holy Terror. <br/>(so yeah, spoiler alert for the whole series up 'til now).</p>
<p>• • • • • • • • •</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Come Home For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up on Christmas morning with an urge to write. Then thought about how Charlie should TOTALLY come back for the Holidays, and how she'd learn about all the shit that had happened. I only wanted to write a little thing, but... this and that happened I guess.
> 
> I never thought it'd become what it is now. Still, could have been longer, I had a couple of ideas to go on writing... But it felt better ending it now. It's open, I still could decide to go back to it. Or not, let the reader take it where they want to.
> 
> So there you go. A little story that became a big single chapter!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

 

 

“Feliz Navidad, bitches!!!” Charlie hollered as she opened the pantry door in the kitchen. She had timed her arrival at what she estimated would be the perfect breakfast time for any normal Christmas morning. Still, the kitchen was cloaked in darkness with no smell of anything cooking.

 

Looking at the time on her phone, she was confused to see she had arrived right when she had planned, but to an empty room. Maybe the boys partied hard on Christmas Eve, she thought. “I knew I should have gotten here yesterday.” she said to the empty room. But, she was there now and it’d be a bitchin’ Christmas Day, she’d make sure of it.

 

The peppy redhead flicked on the lights and started rummaging, loudly of course, through the cupboards for the ground coffee and filters. If the noise she was making didn’t wake them up, maybe the smell of fresh coffee would.

 

She had just finished pouring water in the coffee maker when she felt something hard being jammed in the middle of her spine. Someone was definitely not happy to see her.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” growled an unknown voice behind her.

 

“Ch… Charlie… I’m… I’m a friend of Dea… Dean and Sam’s!” she stammered, wondering a little too late if it was a good idea to even mention the Winchesters. What if the armed man was no friend of theirs?

 

“Charlie? Charlie Bradbury?” the voice said, still raspy, but somehow softer now. She felt the pressure of the gun leave her back so she turned around, slowly, still a bit in shock.

 

“Hu-huh!?” she responded before carefully gazing upward to meet her attacker’s face. Brown unruly hair, dark stubble, full pink chapped lips, piercing blue eyes. She had read all of Carver Edlund’s books, this guy could only be… “Castiel?” she asked, totally relieved to be in the presence of someone she knew had to be an ally.

 

He didn’t answer, only gave her a small nod and stood there, skillfully averting her eyes. Charlie had dealt with her fair share of socially inept people in her life, and this was definitely not the man's problem at this very moment. Something was off, what she felt emanating from him was harsh pain, not awkwardness.

 

“Castiel, where’s Dean?” she asked carefully, as not to frighten him. “And Sam? Are they alright?”

 

Instead of answering, Castiel went around her to finish preparing the coffee and nodded towards the table, enjoining her to sit down.

 

“What’s with the Marcel Marceau? Or is this a game? Did I just loose? I’ll tell you now, I suck at non-talking games, as you probably can tell by now...” Charlie nervously babbled. She still hushed because it was starting to feel more uncomfortable talking than not. And that was a first for one miss Bradbury.

 

The only noise in the room was now coming from the coffee maker, the hot elixir trickling down in the carafe. Castiel went to the fridge to dig out that vanilla creamer he liked and sent an expectant look Charlie’s way.

 

“Yeah, that’s fine…” she breathed after clearing her throat.

 

When the coffee was finally done percolating, Castiel poured two cups and brought them to the table. He opened the creamer and added a large amount to his cup, before offering the bottle to Charlie.

 

It took a while for Castiel to look her in the eye. She understood at once what those cheesy lines in the books were all about, the cerulean-blues, the endless-pools-of-blues, the whatever-blues. They were very nice eyes, no doubt about it, but it wasn’t only about the colour she thought. It was much more about the depth, the wisdom and the everythingness that could be seen converging in them.

 

“Charlie, the last weeks have been very difficult.” he finally said, making sure he had her full attention. “Actually, things haven’t been right for quite some time, but it pretty much exploded about a month ago.”

 

Castiel looked tired. And of course he would, Charlie reminded herself, because he was not an angel anymore, Dean had told him that much.

 

“The angels?” she asked, more as an invite to continue than anything else.

 

“Well, that is part of it. I will not bore you with unnecessary details at this time but… After we… the angels... fell, Sam was very sick. To the point of dying actually. Dean allowed an angel to heal Sam from the inside, to... possess him if you will. Only, the angel has lied about who he was and his purpose. For some unknown reason, he killed Kevin Tran and has now fled, still inhabiting Sam’s body. We don’t even know if Sam is still in there…” Castiel’s voice broke at that last sentence and tears he didn’t seem to be able to retain anymore were streaming down his cheeks.

 

For the second time in less than thirty minutes, Charlie was rendered speechless. Ok, she had never met Kevin, but she knew he was part of the team, he was a friend. And killed by Sam? Or, something looking like Sam, who might not even exist anymore? And Dean? What about Dean?

 

“And Dean, Castiel? Where is he?” She nearly yelled, finding her voice once again.

 

“In his room, but…”

 

Charlie bolted, not waiting to hear more from the now sniffling angel. She needed to know, to see for herself that Dean was alright, that he was still alive. She didn’t knock, she just opened the door and ran to the bed. The first thing that got to her was the smell. Old sweat, booze, puke and maybe a little bit of pee too.

 

“Dean?”

 

There was no movement from the lump on the bed. Because of the smell, she started to fear the man had died in there.

 

“Dean!” she called again, louder.

 

“Fuck off!” he called back from under the covers. Never being rudely dismissed had made her so happy before.

 

“Thank goddess you’re alive, Winchester! Thought you were decomposing under there for a second.”

 

She heard Castiel gasp behind her. Apparently, he didn’t approve of her “tough love” approach. Nor did Dean, if she was to believe what he said next.

 

“Get the fuck out of here Charlie, before I empty my glock at you!”

 

Unfazed, she turned to Castiel and hissed “You let him keep a gun? Why don’t you give him some rope, razor blades and pills while you’re at it?”

 

“You try taking it from him if you’re so brave.” Castiel spitted back, but with a bit of fear in his eyes because he knew too well what she was speaking of.

 

“I’ll do that, and then you’ll take him to take a shower. He’s stinking up the place.” she said before ripping the covers from the bed. Nothing could have prepared her for what lied underneath them. Of course the man was dirty, and scruffy and his eyes were puffy but, more than that, he was curled up, his knees to his chest, his fingers bitten raw and he was trembling.

 

“Has he been this way since…”

 

“Since it happened, yes.” Castiel interrupted her. “Well, not exactly like that, but he’s been getting worse.”

 

“Castiel, he’s had a traumatic experience… his body’s reacting to it. Does he sleep at all?”

 

“I… he tries, but he has nightmares. I don’t know what to do Charlie, I don’t know how to help.” Castiel seemed to be starting to panic a little himself, his eyes teary again.

 

“Please Cas, try and keep it together ok? I have one that’s not doing good here, I can’t have two. I need your help, Dean needs your help, got it?”

 

“Yes, yes, of course. What do you need?” Castiel finally said after taking a couple of deep breaths.

 

“Can you take care of making Dean wash up? He really smells, that should help him a little. Ideally in a bath. They have that here, right?”

 

“Yes, a bath, ok. I will go draw him a bath.”

 

Charlie looked at the shivering form on the bed. She’d have to go on the internet and try to find what the proper treatment for trauma is. They might have to bring him to a hospital, but she very well knew Dean wouldn’t want to go. She placed her hand on his arm cautiously while fetching the gun under the pillow with her other hand. Luckily, Dean either didn’t notice or care, he just laid there, not even acknowledging her gentle touch.

 

“I’m so sorry. We’ll make you better. And then we’ll go find Sammy, ok? Everything’s gonna be ok.” Charlie was whispering hopeful promises to her friend while taking out the magazine from the glock and putting it her back pocket.

 

“I killed Kevin…” Dean snarled. “Nothing’s gonna be ok.”

 

He didn’t have his gun anymore, but Charlie kind of feared he could jump at her, so she left his side to rummage through his drawers in silence. He needed clean clothes to change into. She chose the most comfortable-looking garments she could find and put them on the dresser.

 

“The bath is ready.” said Castiel from right behind Charlie, startling her.

 

“Geez Louise, wear a bell, wouldn’t you?” she gasped.

 

“Dean too tells me to wear a bell. Why is that?”

 

Charlie gently smiled and patted his shoulder. She’d let Dean have the pleasure to explain himself when he’d be better.

 

“So, you take care of our boy, clean clothes are right here. While he’s bathing, I’ll change his bedding. It’s really nasty.” she added, scrunching her nose.

 

“Fine. There is fresh bedding in the laundry room, you know where it is?”

 

“Yes, saw it the last time I was here. If you need help, just call out.”

 

Charlie left the men alone in the bedroom, which left Castiel uneasy, not knowing how to act towards the shivering hunter. Lucky for him, the girl seemed to know what she was doing. Dean had threatened to shoot her but she hadn’t budged, and nothing had happened to her.

 

“Ok, Dean! Time for your bath now.” Castiel said, making sure his voice sounded assertive enough, carefully grabbing his arm to pull him up.

 

“Get off me, Cas!” barked Dean, snatching his arm back.

 

If Castiel was tempted to leave him be, like he had done for the past weeks, but he knew now it might not be the best way to go. He was still strong enough to pick him up and drag him down forcefully, and would do so if he had to. But for now, trying to convince him to move on his own felt like a better avenue.

 

“Dean, Charlie is right, you need to bathe. Come on, get up, I’ll help you.”

 

“Don’t need your help. Justleaveme! Thefuck! Alone!”

 

“No! You will take a bath, whether you want it or not. Now you just need to decide if you will walk or be dragged there.”

 

The ex-angel’s face was so close to Dean’s that he could smell the hunter’s stale breath on his face. It smelt foul, as bad as Meg’s sulfuric demon breath, but he didn’t move, keeping his stare locked to Dean’s. He couldn’t back down, not if he wanted to save his friend from himself.

 

“Fine, ok, you win, no need to be all mighty about it.” Dean finally breathed, lowering his gaze, looking a bit nervous. Not wanting to scare him off, Castiel kept his satisfaction to himself and helped his friend off the bed.

 

They made their way to the bathroom, where the air was warm and damp from the full bath. The citrus scents from the oil Castiel had used in the water enveloped them, making Dean sniffing the air with disgust.

 

“What’s with the chick smell?”

 

“It is bergamot essence, Dean, not poultry. It has wondrous relaxing properties.”

 

“It smells girly.” Dean pouted.

 

Rolling his eyes, Castiel didn’t answer and tried to start undressing Dean.

 

“The fuck, Cas!” Dean yelped, shifting back.

 

“You cannot very well take a bath with your clothes on, can you?”

 

“I can still undress myself.” he said, sheepish. “Get out, I’m good.”

 

“I would rather not, Dean.”

 

“Why the hell not?”

 

“I will turn around to give you privacy, but I am not leaving you alone in a bathroom with a full tub, razors and various dangerous items.” Castiel said in a firm voice.

 

“I didn’t off myself with the gun.” Dean muttered to himself, annoyed.

 

“Well, that was stupid of me and I am not leaving you again!”

 

Dean exhaled loudly and gave Castiel an expectant look, impatiently motioning for him to turn around when the ex-angel didn’t move. Castiel spun quickly, mumbling an apology, and waited to hear the water slosh in the bath, meaning Dean had entered it. He turned back to face the tub and approached it.

 

“Hey! Hey! What'cha doin’?” panicked Dean, bringing his hands to his crotch. “Turn back around, man…”

 

“Dean, I assure you, your form has no secret for me. I only wish to help. Let me take care of you.” Castiel said gently, not waiting for an answer before grabbing the washcloth and dipping it in the water.

 

“Yeah, well… I’ll take care of my… stuff… myself!” he said lowly, refusing to look him in the eye.

 

“Of course. Now, dip your head back in the water, I will wash your hair.”

 

It didn’t take long for Dean to relax into Castiel’s ministrations, appreciating the gentle massages to his scalp, then to his shoulders, arms, back and chest. He seemed to even have forgotten he was to handle the lower parts himself when Castiel took his hands off his body and offered the washcloth back to him.

 

“I will let you finish. Clean clothes are there, I will turn back around now.”

 

Dean just nodded and went on to finish bathing. Castiel turned back and finally let out a stiff breath, one he had been holding for what seemed like an eternity. The shaking of his hands still needed to come to an end and he was hoping that Dean hadn’t noticed. Dean was his friend and now was not the time to let anything else transpire. Not that there would probably ever be a good time for that, but right now? It was probably the worst timing in the world.

 

“I’m decent.”

 

Castiel turned around and observed the hunter. His too long hair were still dripping wet, his face was half obscured by an unkempt beard and he was clad in the most unflattering clothing he’d ever seen him in. The ex-angel’s heart sank when he realised how broken this gorgeous man was, how there was no more light shining in his beautiful green eyes.

 

“Are you guys done?” Charlie called from the other side of the door, after a couple of light knocks.

 

“Almost. I think Dean just needs to brush his teeth and… shave maybe?”

 

“OK, I’m making breakfast, it’s mandatory for you guys to eat it!” she answered back.

 

“Not shaving… not hungry… ‘m tired.” grumbled Dean, glaring at the door.

 

“Dean, you need to eat. You haven’t eaten anything for days.” Castiel countered in the same tone, but glaring at Dean instead of the door. “Now, at least brush your teeth so we can honour Charlie’s breakfast.”

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

“This is delicious Charlie.” said Castiel after swallowing a huge bite of the vegetable omelet she had prepared for them.

 

“Thank you, Castiel.” she replied with a bright smile.

 

Those were the first words that had been spoken since they all sat at the kitchen table. The atmosphere was so tense, trying to sustain a conversation at that moment would probably have been as easy as having one underwater.

 

“Dean…”

 

“Don’t, Charlie… Please.” Dean said, pretty unconvincingly. He hadn’t touched the food on his plate nor had he looked at his friends. He seemed to have lost the will to fight them, which they certainly could appreciate.

 

“I’m sorry, but I will.” she replied in a friendly tone. “While you boys were frolicking in the water, I did some research.”

 

“There was no frolicking.” Castiel sputtered, his face suddenly very warm.

 

She gave him a wink and continued on. “If a therapist would be the best way to go...” she put her hand up so Dean wouldn’t bother commenting, “I know it’s not an option, Dean. But there are other options, more like self-help stuff. And cramming everything down and washing it with booze is not on the list. Not if you ever want to help your brother.”

 

Castiel kept his eyes on Dean, ready to grab him if he tried to jump Charlie. He was afraid she was coming off too strong, but so far, she seemed to be doing ok. Still, he didn’t wish to leave Dean’s side, unsure how the hunter could react to any of their efforts.

 

“First off, you need to sleep.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“We’ll make sure you do.” She turned to Castiel and smiled at him. “Won’t we, Cas?”

 

“Of course, everything Dean needs.” he answered, trying to smile but very aware he was failing miserably.

 

“Perfect. So you’ll take your mattress and bring it to Dean’s bedroom. You’ll be spending your nights in there with him.”

 

“What?” jumped Dean.

 

“You’ll need someone waking you up when you get nightmares. It can’t be me in case it becomes violent and Castiel can fend for himself better than I can. Better to be close than in another room, right? Or maybe, ditch the mattress and you guys can sleep in the same bed? Faster response...”

 

“Nah, mattress is good.” agreed Dean with a shrug. Castiel could only nod, hoping his lack of participation in the sleeping arrangements topic wouldn’t be noticed.

 

“Great. You also need to blow some steam. Again, better to do this with the ex-angel guy than me, especially if you decide to go all crazy. There’s a gym here, you guys should go play boxing or judo or something. Just, try not killing each other.” She nodded to herself, pretty satisfied. “But first, Dean, eat the omelet, please. And if you’re good, we might have burgers tonight.” She added, with a cheeky grin.

 

“You done?” Dean said in a low and icy voice, not looking at either of them.

 

Just like that, the mood that seemed to have lifted a bit went crashing back down.

 

“Listen, I know you wanna help. I’d like to say I appreciate it, but I can’t even do that. Do you know the shit I’ve pulled? Kevin died because of me. I lost him and my brother because I was dumb enough to trust a fucking angel. I ruined everything. Your omelets and burgers and nice sentiments won’t change any of that! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave and never come back. Hanging out with me is suicide Charlie, go back to Oz and stay there. I’d say the same goes for you Cas, but you’re fucked whether you stay with me or go, so… whatever, I guess.”

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

Charlie and Castiel were sitting side by side on his bed, each with a beer, still digesting Dean’s dismissive speech. Charlie was deep in thoughts, trying to find ways to help her friend, while Castiel was right back where he once was. Dean had retreated to his room and shut the door, thankfully without locking it due to Castiel’s insistence.

 

“I think I made things worse.” Charlie ultimately said.

 

“No, I disagree. You got him to bathe, that’s pretty good.”

 

She chuckled, but it sounded more sad than anything.

 

“So you’re telling he’s been like this for a month then?” Charlie asked.

 

“Oh no! At first, even though he was devastated, he still wanted to go out and find his brother... or… the angel... and make him pay for Kevin’s death.”

 

“Castiel, I need more… what happened exactly? I can’t help if I don’t know what he went through.”

 

“It's pretty simple, really. He prayed to me, I came here, found Dean tending to Kevin’s dead body, I couldn’t bring him back…”

 

“Wait, he prayed and you heard him?”

 

“Yes, I still can hear if someone prays to me, but I also had some grace back at the time… which I lost again. It appears borrowed grace will not renew itself and is pretty volatile. So I was only useful for a short amount of time. Not long enough…”

 

“Ok, and then… what made him go all cuckoo’s nest?”

 

Castiel frowned at his new friend, but knew better than to ask about what was certainly another reference to something he didn’t know about. She was much like Dean in that matter, he found.

 

“I guess you mean, what made him be how he is now. The search for Sam, or rather, the angel inhabiting him, was all but a success. It is like he has vanished from the planet, which could also be a possibility. If we at least knew the true identity of the angel possessing Sam, we could summon him, but he told Dean he was Ezekiel, who I learned has died during the fall. We have found and interrogated many angels, from different factions, none of them seemed to know who it is we are looking for.”

 

“It might be a stupid idea but… could it be Lucifer?” Charlie said carefully.

 

“It was one of our first ideas as well. We tried summoning him, to no avail, he's still in the cage. We do not know who is possessing Sam and he is making sure that we cannot find him. We have come to an impasse. I would say this is when it started going downhill for Dean, he pretty much snapped. He stopped living about two weeks ago.”

 

Both stayed silent for what seemed forever, mulling over what Castiel had just narrated and nursing their now warm beers.

 

“And there I was, hoping gay love would pierce through the veil of death and save the day.” Charlie suddenly said with a soft laugh, before looking at the former angel who sported that cute confused look.

 

“Another reference to some television or movie event?”

 

“Actually, this one’s from the Supernatural books. A quote from one of the Ghostfacers, I always liked it. Plus, I thought it’d be fitting here.” she added with a knowing smile.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Why do you think I asked you to help Dean with his bath? And why do you think I suggested that you sleep in his room? What Dean needs, I can’t give to him, and I’m pretty sure nobody else but you could do it anyways.”

 

Seeing Castiel still looked puzzled, Charlie huffed in disbelief, throwing her arms in the air.

 

“Oh my goddess, you ARE dense. You love the guy, the guy loves you! Make babies and what not!!! Ok, maybe not babies, but you know what I mean.”

 

Castiel sighed and shook his head, both in disbelief and disagreement.

 

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Charlie. Might I remind you and I just met this morning? I do not think the Prophet’s books, which you seem fond of, would have implied any kind of amorous attraction between Dean and I. And even if any of us were affected with such feelings, what makes you think they would do any good in the present situation?”

 

“First of all, you know that guy you’re looking for? The giant with the long tresses? I take my cues from him, not the books. He can’t wait for you guys to get together so you'd stop being all passionate around each other. Also, I’ve seen Dean, the way he is when he talks about you, he’s pretty darn cute. But most of all, I think that right now, Dean needs something to believe in and I’m pretty sure he believes in you. So, in other words, he needs YOU.”

 

“He has me, I’ve been here trying to help him through this, as much as I could. I fear I am ill equipped to deal with an emotional crisis… And knowing Dean, this can’t be the key. If he thought he was unworthy of love before, I can’t imagine what he must think of himself now.”

 

Castiel’s shoulders slumped in defeat. All his fears voiced in one go, all that he wasn’t able to achieve for his charge, his friend, the one person he had ever loved (even though he wasn’t ready to admit this to Charlie). He felt just as broken as the man he desperately wanted to help.

 

“Castiel, you rebuilt Dean from scratch before, I’m certain you can do it again.” Charlie hushed, her hand a soothing presence on his back.

 

“I am not an angel anymore. I am barely a man.”

 

“You were a frikkin’ soldier of the Lord, man. Now march in there and make your hunter better.”

 

“Will you stay Charlie?” Castiel asked, hoping she would even after Dean’s tirade.

 

“Of course, I’m not going anywhere. I will do research and try to find Sam, or actually, the asshole that has him. You go take care of Dean, ok?”

 

“Very well. Thank you, Charlie Bradbury.” Castiel claimed, wanting for some reason to give some formality to his gratitude, extending his right hand to offer a shake.

 

She squinted at his polite gesture, rolled her eyes to the ceiling and snorted a laugh. Before the ex-angel could be insulted by Charlie’s apparent rejection, he found himself engulfed in her embrace as she was giving him the hug of all hugs.

 

“Now, you bring your arms around me and hug back, you socially inept angel you.” she softly laughed in his ear. He obliged, letting her warmth comfort him and hoping he was offering a bit of the same to her.

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

He had feared Dean would not let him in his room, but the hunter didn’t budge when Castiel clumsily carried the mattress through the door and let it fall at the bed’s footing. The only acknowledgment he got was a quick glance after he was done prepping the mattress with clean sheets and blankets.

 

But when Castiel brought in a pile of books, a box of graham crackers and a bottle of water, Dean sat up in his bed and glared at the brown haired man.

 

“It’s not bedtime so… get out!” he spat.

 

“No, thank you.” Castiel simply answered back.

 

“My room, my rules. Out!”

 

“I’m staying.” he said again, not taking his eyes from the book he had started reading.

 

“Fuck you, Cas!”

 

“Insulting me will not achieve anything. Still not leaving.”

 

Dean huffed noisily and got up. Castiel feared he’d have to defend himself, but the hunter went to his stereo to put on a record and played it as loud as he could. When Castiel turned to look at Dean, he could see him looking pretty smug, as if certain he had found a way to scare the ex-angel off. He looked his friend in the eye and mouthed, in an exaggerated manner “I. DON’T. CARE.”, before going back to his book.

 

Apparently, Dean himself cared because the music came down to a more acceptable volume pretty soon. He went back to bed and hid under the covers, mumbling under his breath for about five minutes.

 

Castiel was hitching to go to him and talk. Not about what Charlie had hinted earlier, but about everything, anything, else. He wanted to convince him to come out of his apathy, to take back the arms and fight for his brother. He felt the need to shake him until whatever was poisoning him oozed out of his pores.

 

“You’re not helping, dude.” groaned Dean from under his comforter. “Would you mind not thinking so much? People are trying to sulk and you’re making the air heavy.”

 

Not feeling the need to answer, Castiel instead was glad to have Dean talk to him. Even if he was being pissy and moody, he was at least somewhat interacting with him. Which was more that what had been happening in the last weeks. He thanked the heavens, or whatever, that Charlie had shown up. She clearly would be of great help.

 

The remaining of the day was spent like this, both of them each on their bed and barely addressing each other. Actually, Castiel would not really talk to Dean while Dean would try to find arguments to make Castiel leave, without success.

 

He even tried to keep Castiel from coming back in the room after a long delayed bathroom break by locking the door. Unruffled, Castiel worked on the lock (with Charlie’s help, a bit of internet research and bobby pins) and allowed himself back in.

 

It had barely been an hour since Dean had finally fallen asleep when Castiel heard him stirring in his bed, his breaths quick and shallow. Castiel crawled up on Dean’s bed to try and wake him up before he could get too deep in his nightmare, just hoping not to be clocked on the jaw again.

 

He might not have told Charlie, but Castiel had tried at first to help Dean with his night terrors. It had only resulted in a black eye, split lip and one of the biggest fight the two men had ever gotten into. Dean had been very clear, in more ways than one (maybe involving the glock pointed at Castiel’s forehead at some point), as to where Castiel could shove his attempts to help. So Castiel had stopped trying, pretty much starting to fear for his life.

 

Luckily, this time he only woke in a start and rather than throwing punches, he just grunted, clearly upset, and pushed Castiel off of him.

 

“Are you ok, Dean?” Castiel asked in a soft voice.

 

Without answering, Dean turned his back to Castiel. He would certainly not fall back asleep right away, but he made clear that talking was not an option. About to ask if Dean needed anything, he was interrupted by a discreet knock on the bedroom’s door.

 

“Guys?” Charlie called softly.

 

Castiel got on his feet and went to the door to open it. On the other side, the petite redhead was looking very nervous, if not borderline scared.

 

“What is it, Charlie?” Castiel said in a low voice, after getting out in the hall and closing the door behind him.

 

“Well… hum… you do know you have a… a rude English guy shackled in your Archive room… right? she asked, hesitantly.

 

“Yes. Crowley, and he is not a man. A demon, rather. You did not free him, did you?” Castiel asked, suddenly worried.

 

“Of course not. Not that he didn’t try to smooth-talk me into it.”

 

“He does tend to do that, yes.”

 

“Of course, when I wouldn’t, he turned nasty.” she added, her eyes misty. “But anyways, I was wondering if you thought he could help with Sam.” she continued, forcing herself to smile. “He said he could.”

 

“He will say anything at this point, I’m afraid.” sighed Castiel. “We did go to him before and he couldn’t help. That’s what he said anyways. He probably just didn’t wish to.”

 

“So you keep him locked-up? Like, a war prisoner or something?”

 

“He is the King of Hell… self-appointed, but still... It is best if we keep him here. Or Dean thinks so anyways.”

 

“You don’t?”

 

“I don’t know anymore, to tell you the truth. At this very moment, he is the least of my concerns. Just, don’t listen to him when you go to that room, he will say anything to get a reaction out of you. He can be quite cruel.”

 

“Yeah, I got that much. I’ll just put on my earplugs and blast some good tunes if I need to go back there.”

 

“How’s he doing?” she finally asked after a minute of uncomfortable silence, nodding towards the door.

 

“Well, he was getting a nightmare and I woke him up. I am still alive, so he’s doing better I guess.”

 

“Good. Found some canned chicken soup, want me to heat some up for you guys?”

 

“I doubt he’ll be eating, but we should try nonetheless, thank you.” he responded with what could be constructed as a smile.

 

She grabbed his arm and squeezed, as to offer comfort, then went back down the hall to the kitchen.

 

• • • • • • • • • •

The following days went smoothly, Charlie mostly doing research and trying to keep the guys (and herself) fed, even if it was mostly canned, boxed and frozen goods. She did try to integrate some fresh foods in the menus, fruits and vegetables, but they were of the already-cut-single-serving kind; baby carrots, lebanese cucumbers, apples, bananas, etc.

 

As for Castiel, he would stay in Dean’s room, sitting in silence on his own mattress, reading while keeping an eye out for any trouble in his friend’s sleeping patterns. When he himself was sleeping, he still was mostly aware of his surroundings, able to quickly prevent his friend from getting too deep into his nightmares.

 

Needless to say, the ex-angel, who never before needed sleep, was now very much sleep deprived. But he didn’t care, he was invested in a mission, just like before. He had to watch over Dean, the man who once was his charge, then his friend, the single most important person in his life. Losing him was not something Castiel was even contemplating, so sleeping was not something he wanted to worry about.

 

It took four days for Dean to talk to Castiel, to actually say something other than being dismissive or hurtful. He didn’t say much, but it was a start. Charlie had brought them each a plate of chicken strips and fries (all of the frozen kind, thank you very much) but neither had touched them. It was crazy how depression and the lack of physical activity would not help build an appetite.

 

“I’m sorry, Cas.” was all Dean said, staring at the ceiling.

 

Castiel didn’t answer, not sure what Dean was apologizing for. He wanted to say that there was no need to be sorry, but he didn’t think dismissing the hunter’s first attempt in communication would be the best idea. Instead, he extended his hand to one of Dean’s legs and patted it lightly in recognition.

 

It took some hours and another nightmare for Castiel to hear Dean again. His voice was hoarse, both from the lack of use and fright he had just gone through, and muffled because of his face buried in Castiel’s chest.

 

That was a new thing too, the hugging or cuddling, whatever it was. Castiel had initiated it the night before when Dean didn’t seem to be able to stop sobbing, still in the throes of his bad dream. It had started with a cautious arm around the shoulders to try and calm the shaking. When it was not enough, but not rejected, a second arm joined the first one, just as carefully.

 

When Dean did not push away, still shaking profusely, Castiel took a chance and brought the hunter in a close embrace, chest to chest, using one hand to make Dean rest his head on his shoulder and pet his hair gently. They stayed like this for close to half an hour, wordlessly, until Dean had finally calmed down. He had left Castiel’s arms cautiously, making sure to avoid them making eye contact, and turned his back to him.

 

So there they were, in some kind of soothing hug, waiting for Dean’s tremors to die down, when Dean spoke again for the second time that day.

 

“I’m so sorry…” he cried in the crook of Castiel’s neck. This time, the ex-angel felt they could try to talk about it.

 

“What about?” he simply asked, hoping Dean would respond.

 

“Everything, Cas… everything I touch… even you… should have left me down there.”

 

Castiel didn’t know what to answer, once more. He had infinite knowledge about infinite things, just not about human emotions and how to deal with them. He wondered if he should ask Charlie to talk to him, but he quickly thought against it. He was not a therapist but he wasn’t stupid either. Dean opening to him, or at least leaving his mind’s door slightly ajar, took three full days. They didn’t have time to go through this again with Charlie.

 

“You are a wonderful man, Dean. You saved the world. More than once.” Castiel hushed in his friends hair, worried how his response would be received.

 

“And killed so many people, Cas… so many…” he croaked.

 

“Never as many as you have saved.”

 

“I killed Kevin, and probably Sam too!” Dean wept, tightening his hold on Castiel.

 

“You did not…” Castiel hushed, “we will find Sam and the angel that is possessing him. Kevin will be avenged, I promise.”

 

Without thinking about it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Castiel brushed the hair from Dean’s forehead before kissing it softly. It was chaste, almost motherly, but it was a kiss nonetheless and both men stilled with a hitch in their breaths. Dean haltingly pushed away from his friend, enough to be able to look him in the eye. If there was confusion and dismay in the green eyes, the blue ones were shrouded in evident panic.

 

“Mmm… my ap… apologies. I didn’t… sorry…” stuttered Castiel, his whole face now sporting a reddish hue.

 

Dean didn’t answer but patted his friend’s hand as to say it was ok, but still disentangled himself and went back to lie on his bed, turning his back to him. The air in the room was suddenly thick and heavy and Castiel felt shame settling in his guts. He decided it was time to take a breather, take a shower, go be away for a little while. Dean would probably be ok on his own for some time, and he could certainly appreciate not having Castiel around right now.

 

After a long shower, mostly spent standing motionless under the hot spray, Castiel went to the library rather than going back to Dean’s room. He was still not ready to face him again. Despite the fact that it was close to 2:30 in the morning, Charlie was up and working on her laptop, dozens of books scattered on the table. She reminded him so much of Sam at this very moment, it made his heart sink a little.

 

“Hello, Charlie.” he said quietly, hoping he would not startle her.

 

“Hi, Cas.” she answered with a bright smile, which faltered when she finally looked up at him. “What’s going on, is Dean ok?” she asked hurriedly seeing the haggard look on his face.

 

“Yes, he’s probably sleeping by now, or not. I should go back.” he shrugged.

 

“What happened? Are you ok?”

 

“I think I overstepped my boundaries. I’m afraid all the progress made in the last day might be lost.” he responded with a sigh.

 

“How’s so?”

 

“I kissed him. A peck. On the forehead. I did not think, it just happened. I don’t think he appreciated.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“He did pull away from the embrace.”

 

“The embrace? You guys were... hugging?” Charlie yelped, now fully turning to face the taller man. “Like, for real?”

 

“Yes. But I think cuddling would be a more appropriate term, even though Dean would probably hate it. It helps calm him down after his nightmares, and he seems to sleep better after.”

 

“I bet he does.” she added cheekily. “He might be spooked right now, but it’s not like you full on french kissed the guy.” It delighted her to see the ex-angel blush furiously at the picture she just painted. “He’ll get over it, if he hasn’t already.”

 

“I do hope so. I am still embarrassed it happened.”

 

“Don’t be.” she smiled gently. “So, wanna know what I found so far? You could actually answer some questions I have.”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“So, I was reading and I thought only Lucifer had been punished by God. You must know about Tartarus?”

 

“Of course. It’s a realm where God sent the disobedient angels. A prison of sorts.”

 

“That’s what I found. Would that so-called prison be affected by Metatron’s spell?”

 

“I would imagine so, as Tartarus is still part of heaven and its inhabitants are angels. Why? Do you think we are dealing with a Watcher?”

 

“I don’t know. I am just learning about all this stuff now.”

 

“You have to know there are over 200 angels in Tartarus. Even if Sam had been taken by one of them…”

 

“Yeah, read that too.” she groaned. “Have another question though. In Carver Edlund’s books, they didn’t know who you were at first, right? When you tried to communicate with Dean. They went to that Pamela woman and she got your name.”

 

“Yes, because I told her. And, she lost her eyes in the process too.” he added, wincing at the memory.

 

“Well, you DID tell her to stop prying.” Charlie shrugged.

 

“Dean had my mark, that’s how she was able to make contact. We don’t have a psychic Charlie, nor do we have anything the angel touched.”

 

“Yes, we do!” the redhead blurted, excited. “We have me!”

 

Castiel squinted at her, wondering how the angel could ever have touched her in a way that could help them.

 

“I died last time I was here, Castiel. Dean never told me how it happened, but I was resuscitated. Wanna bet I was touched by Sam’s angel?” she concluded with a wink.

 

“Of course… And I think I was too.” Castiel added, looking at her intently. He had never thought again about the reaper that killed him and how she had supposedly resurrected him at Dean’s insistence. It made much more sense that Sam’s intruder restored him now that he knew about it.

 

Without another word or explanation, Castiel went back to Dean’s room. He had to tell him about this as soon as possible. How they had not thought about this before, he couldn’t explain it. Pamela Barnes was a touchy subject for both men, as they felt equally responsible for her early demise.

 

“Thanks Charlie, you’re the best!” she mumbled to herself as she watched the man jog down the hall.

 

In the bedroom, nothing had changed. Dean was still on his side, covered entirely by the blankets and lights were off. He might even have fallen back asleep.

 

“Dean.” Castiel murmured, approaching the bed carefully.

 

“What?” he said back, seemingly pretty awake.

 

“I just spoke to Charlie and she had a genius idea. We might be able to find out who’s possessing Sam.”

 

“Yeah?” he said, bringing the blanket down from his face.

 

“I know that Pamela Barnes is no more, but do you know another talented psychic that could help us achieve what she did with me?”

 

“And what? Make them blind? Or even dead? Dean hissed, bringing the covers back on his face.

 

“Dean, we’ll warn them. Not to look, at any cost. We just need a name.”

 

“Didn’t she have to summon you to come forth? And, through my scar, nonetheless.

 

“She did. But, it was not the scar itself she needed. I had touched you, it was enough. Like I guess Sam touched me. And Charlie?" Castiel asked without any more details, as he was sure Dean would know what he was referring to.

 

“Cas…”

 

“It’s ok, Dean. I get it, you couldn’t say anything. But if he did touch us, we should be able to track him down.”

 

Dean just gulped loudly and nodded, coming back out from under the covers but still averting Castiel’s eyes. “He did… you and Charlie.” he confirmed. “Could he hurt the psychic on purpose?” he then added, finally looking at his friend.

 

“No, unless the psychic doesn’t do as we say and doesn’t break the connection before it’s too late.”

 

“Then, I think I know someone who could help.”

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

It took another three days before Dean was strong enough to handle a road trip. Lawrence was only about four hours from Lebanon, but it would be the longest Dean had been out of the bunker, or even his room, for close to three weeks

 

He had been worried Missouri Moseley had moved or even died since they had seen her all those years ago, but he tracked her down pretty easily as she was still alive and kicking in Lawrence. She had been her usual self on the phone, chastising him for staying away, without so much of a word, for so long.

 

“Oh, and you boys better be workin’ on sending those angels home. They’re gettin’ on my last nerve, I tell you!”

 

“Did angels come and see you? Are you ok?” Dean asked, worried for her safety as much as their own.

 

“No, they did not. Don’t you worry, boy, my house is safe. Just you get down here and we’ll find that brother of yours.”

 

It had been a short conversation but it had helped Dean out of his funk a bit more. The news of a possible way to find his brother had finally given him the will to get up from his bed. He was still not fine, far from it, but he was at least trying now.

 

That same day, he took a shower, shaved and changed into clean clothes without being coerced into it. Castiel saw the event as a small victory. He asked Charlie to go into town to pick up some burgers, fries and apple pie. He didn’t care if Dean was not to eat any of it, but he felt like every little step the hunter took needed to be acknowledged as accomplishments.

 

Gladly, the kiss event never came up. Both of them acted as if it never happened and Castiel was relieved. They had other things to worry about, important things.

 

When Charlie came back with the food, she was glad to see Dean sitting in the kitchen with Castiel. They each had a beer in their hand and, if they weren’t talking, they still seemed at ease in each other’s company.

 

“Hey, Charlie.” Dean said with a shy smile.

 

“Hi, Dean. Got you the greasiest burgers and fries I could find.” she answered with a wink. “And apple pie for dessert.”

 

“Thanks, Charlie.” both men said. “Beer?” Castiel added towards the redhead.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

They ate together for the first time since Charlie’s arrival, for once the shadow of the dreadful events having lifted enough for them to breath comfortably. There was conversation, if it can be called that, mostly dominated by Charlie as she was going over everything she had read in the past days. Dean mostly nodded from time to time, while Castiel listened and provided missing pieces of information or corrected misinterpreted facts.

 

At night, Castiel still went to sleep in Dean’s room, pretty well aware that having found a way to maybe find the wayward angel would certainly not prevent Dean from having nightmares. Sam was still gone and Kevin was still dead, there was no changing that for now.

 

What changed though is how Dean handled the post-nightmare cuddling that night. He didn’t pull away, he accepted Castiel’s comfort as he had done before. But this time, he seemed to linger in the former angel’s arms longer than usual. Dean’s shivers had subsided and his breath had evened out, but he stayed buried in Castiel’s arms. At some point, he even thought the hunter had dozed off.

 

“Cas?” he then hummed in the angel’s neck.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You can… your fingers in my hair… like you did before… if you want… I don’t mind.”

 

Castiel’s heart fluttered at his friend’s request. Because, it was a request, wasn’t it? If he didn’t want it, he wouldn’t ask, would he? Castiel had restrained petting Dean’s hair in case it wasn’t welcomed anymore, in case it would make Dean uneasy. But this, this was him asking for a touch. Not for kissing, of course, but touching.

 

“It’s ok if you don’t want… you don’t have to.” Dean then said, starting to move away from Castiel.

 

“I want to Dean. I do…” Castiel quickly said, prompting Dean to come back in the cuddling position they had adopted. He brought his hand up and ran it in his friend’s hair, softly massaging the scalp, happy to hear the satisfied hums coming from him. “You tell me when you want to go back to sleep, Dean.”

 

“‘m sleepin’ now, you can stay here.” he mumbled before bringing them both to lie down on the bed instead of sitting. “‘s’an experiment, just sleep Cas.” Dean added when they were horizontal and comfortable.

 

This new arrangement seemed to work wonders on Dean, who fell asleep pretty much immediately. Frankly, Castiel being so tired himself and seeing how his friend seemed to be at peace in his arms, fell asleep pretty quickly as well. And for the first time since what seemed forever, both men slept for an uninterrupted 5 hours.

 

Castiel woke up with the sudden loss of Dean's warmth and weight from his chest. He didn’t remember the last time sleep had been so restful and he stretched his limbs with a contented sigh. He opened his eyes to see Dean was already dressed and heading to the door.

 

“I guess the experiment was a success.” he said before leaving the room.

 

They repeated the experiment the next two nights too, with the same success has before, both able to rake up to 7 hours of sleep. No nightmares or insomnia, only blissful and marvelous sleep. There might also have been some spooning, even though Dean would never admit to it. Especially since he was the little spoon in this scenario.

 

The third morning, even though they were still in bad shape, they were rested enough to take the road to go see Missouri in Lawrence. Charlie had wanted to come with them, arguing that she too had been “touched by the angel” and could be of service. She was actually trying to find any reason not to stay alone in the bunker with the King of Hell. They assured her that she was in the safest place in the world (don’t think about Kevin, don’t think about the witch) as long as she didn’t touch anything or freed Crowley.

 

After making Charlie promise to stay put, the men left the bunker’s garage aboard Dean’s beloved Impala. The hunter relished driving her again, remembering with delight how he could always found solace in the rumble of her engine and its power in his hands.

 

Him, his baby and his best friend, back on the road. It was almost perfection, only his brother was missing (don’t think about Kevin) and that was what they were going for in Lawrence. Missouri would tell them the name of the angel who had duped them, and they would summon him and… and…

 

“Cas, what happens when we find the angel?”

 

“We’ll do what you wanted to do first. With Kevin.” he added, almost as a murmur.

 

“You know how?”

 

“I do. We’ll just need to bind somehow before we can do anything else.”

 

Dean just nodded, satisfied to know they had some kind of plan for when they would have the angel in their grasp. Of course, the plan was not perfect, a number of things could still go wrong, and they probably would. But this, right now, was the best lead they had had since everything came crashing down.

 

He was not stupid, he knew this newfound energy of his was probably temporary but for once, they had a real hope at some resolution. Kevin would still be dead, this ship had sailed and crashed and burned. But if they could save Sam, if he was still in his own body and able to be himself again, that would make Dean’s life a lot less shitty.

 

What a fucking selfish thing to think, Dean Winchester, he berated himself. He should only be worrying about Sam’s well-being right now, not wanting to make his own life better but making sure his little brother was not suffering backstage of his own mind, or back in hell, or whatever else he didn’t know could be happening. Ultimately, it would make his own life better, but he could just call it collateral damage.

 

He jumped when he felt Castiel’s hand on his shoulder.

 

“Dean, I think you are distracted.” he simply said.

 

Indeed, Dean was dangerously swerving in the opposing traffic lane. Thankfully, not many people were on the road as it was the day after New Year’s and most americans were probably still sleeping off their celebrations. Dean realised just then that they had breezed through Christmas and New Year’s without even mentioning it. Not that it really mattered, but this year could have been a great one for Holidays. If Dean hadn’t fucked it all up, it could have been pretty nice actually.

 

A new nudge from Castiel on his shoulder made him realise he was getting lost in his own thoughts again, thus endangering them once more.

 

“Talk to me, Cas.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Anything. Just make it interesting so I don’t drift off in my head again.”

 

“I think it would be more effective if you told me what would be of interest to you. This way, I would be certain to keep you entertained.”

 

“Tell me about Jesus.”

 

“I did not meet Jesus, therefore I can hardly tell you anything new about him. Gabriel could have though, as he was the one who told Mary about her being with child.”

 

“Yeah, about that… she did the nasty, right? The virgin birth’s a hoax, right? You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” Dean said on a conspiratorial tone.

 

Castiel didn’t answer but turned to glare at Dean, eyes squinted and lips pinched thin.

 

“Sheesh, sorry dude. I get it, she was a virgin, fine!”

 

He went for safe questions instead, asking about various battles he'd read about, and dinosaurs, and anything that would not pertain to anybody’s virgin status. Before they even knew it, they had reached Lawrence and Dean pulled up at the first motel he saw to book a room. They had both decided that it might not be a good idea to try and do a round trip on the same day. They might sleep a bit better now, but they were both still very strung out.

 

“You hungry?” asked Dean when he got back to the car.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Biggerson’s?”

 

“Ok.” Castiel replied, even though he kind of had seen enough of those at some point. But he didn’t know any other place and they had more pressing matters.

 

Coffees, pancakes and bacon were gulped down in record time, after which they got back in the Impala to get to Missouri’s house. It still looked the same, only a bit older, not as fresh and prim, just like the lady who opened the door. She hadn’t lost any of her sass and took great pleasure berating Dean about his apparent lack of manners and cocky attitude. Still, she had the biggest heart and couldn’t resist in pulling him onto her and giving him the biggest hug she could muster. Only then did she acknowledge the presence of the second man.

 

“And who’s your friend?”

 

“My name is Castiel. Mrs. Moseley, it is a great honour, I have heard a lot of wonderful things about you.” Castiel pressed, extending his hand to shake hers.

 

“You see Dean, this is how you…” she stopped talking as soon as she touched his hand and stared at the former angel in something close to disbelief.

 

“Oh, my poor child.” she finally said, her eyes brimming with tears. She brought a hand up to his face as if to soothe him. Being called a child should have been insulting to Castiel, being as old as he was, but he could sense that this was nothing more than a term of endearment on her part. She had seen who he once was, what he had done and lost, and still he could feel the love for his kind in her warm touch. For the first time, he could start to imagine what a mother's love could feel like.

 

“Come in the kitchen. I’ll make some tea and then we’ll see what I can do for you boys.”

 

• • • • • • • • • •

  
  


The storytelling took a long time. It was bits and pieces, silences, hurt and tears. Missouri only listened, offering more tea or tissues, not needing to ask questions as she could pretty much see it all unfold in her mind. But she still wanted them to tell her what had happened, would it only be for their own benefit.

 

They told her about Pamela Barnes, how she had her eyes burnt by insisting on spying on Castiel’s true form. Missouri had to promise to them she’d leave it alone and all they wanted was a name. If she couldn’t get it, she’d have to break contact at once.

 

“This ain’t my first rodeo, son!” she told Dean, her lips pursed. “I have no intention of letting my eyes be stolen from me. Now, can we do this or not?” she added impatiently.

 

“Yeah, I guess… where do you need Cas?” Dean asked her, giving the other man a confident nod.

 

“Right there’s fine. Gimme your hands, Castiel.”

 

The former angel obliged, extending his hands to her, palms up. She took them in her own and closed her eyes.

 

“There’s still a great deal of power in you, hon’.” she told him in a low voice. “That’s very good for me, but confusing too.” she added with a frown.

 

“What do you…?”

 

“Hush.” the psychic simply replied, squeezing his hands in hers.

 

“I can feel three remnant sources of grace in you, Castiel. I can’t name them just yet, but one is probably your own.”

 

“If it helps, another might be Theodore’s. I… I absorbed his grace before, but… it didn’t take.”

 

Missouri opened her eyes and gave him a stern look, clearly insisting that he’d stop talking. Still, she nodded in understanding and closed her eyes again. She stayed like this for a while, breathing deeply, most likely in some kind of trance.

 

“I found him, but he’s resisting me.” she suddenly said, keeping her eyes closed. “He clearly doesn’t want us to know who he is.”

 

“Where is he?” Dean growled.

 

“I don’t know and don’t care. We only need his name.” she sputtered back. “Let me work.”

 

It took some more time to even get a hint of what the angel’s name could be. Missouri was working hard at it, shaking in effort, with sweat beads on her forehead and above her lips. But she didn’t quit, huffing in irritation every time either man would try to tell her to break the connection before it was too late.

 

The sun had started to set over the horizon when she finally was able to speak the name of the rogue angel.

 

“G… Ga… Gabriel? No… Gadreel!!!” she finally spit before opening her eyes again and letting go of Castiel to break any connection she would have been able to make.

 

“GABRIEL?” shouted Dean, clearly not having heard the last name Missouri had said. But it was similar, so it was quite understandable. “That son of a bitch! And why…”

 

“Dean, not Gabriel… Gadreel.” repeated Castiel, exaggerating the pronunciation. “Charlie had been close to the truth when she spoke of Tartarus.”

 

Castiel received confused looks from both Dean and Missouri. Clearly, they were not familiar with that piece of Christian mythology.

 

“Gadreel was a watcher, an angel appointed to Earth. Like most of the other watchers, he fell prey to earthly desires, mostly of a sexual nature. They took human women as their own and that’s how nephilims came to be.”

 

“Yes, I remember now.” Missouri suddenly said, nodding her head. “T’is why there was the great flood, no?”

 

“Indeed. God was furious and Nephilims needed to be eliminated. Only Noah and his family would survive.”

 

“What does it have to do with that Gadreel fucker?” spat Dean. Not that he didn’t appreciate Cas’s stories, but they didn’t really have time for this now.

 

“The watchers were all punished, sent to a prison-like realm called Tartarus. Gadreel was one of them.”

 

“All because he did the nasty?” Dean asked, incredulous.

 

“He was the one to corrupt Eve, leading her and Adam from Eden.”

 

Dean’s eyes grew wide as he let this latest bit of information sink in. The little shit inside his baby brother had boinked Eve. That same Eve he killed some years ago. He did feel a surge of pride at that very thought and couldn’t hide a maniacal grin.

 

“What is it?” Castiel asked, worried.

 

“I killed his bitch, and now I’m gonna kill him too!” Dean just said, satisfied by the turn of events.

 

“Dean Winchester! You are talking about the mother of us all, be respectful.”

 

“Oh Missouri, if you only knew. We met that so-called mother. She was a monster.”

 

All of the older woman’s wittiness seemed to have left her as she stood, mouth agape, shifting her gaze between the two men incessantly. She finally settled on Castiel who clearly had the upper hand when it came to faith and its lore.

 

“Sadly, it is true Mrs. Moseley. She might have given birth to the first humans, but she did the same for monsters too. Dean had to kill her or she would have killed us all.”

 

“I don’t wanna hear anymore.” the woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I think you boys got what you came here for, so you should leave and… go do what you need to do.”

 

“Sorry to have upset you, Missouri.”

 

“Yeah, yeah… just, stop talking before you ruin something else for me, would ya?” she replied, hurriedly pushing them towards the door as soon as they were standing from their chairs.

 

“Thank you, Missouri. Seriously, I owe you. You have my number, call if you ever need anything.” Dean said before giving her a peck on the check.

 

“Off you go now!”

 

“Bye Missouri, thanks again!” both men called out to her while walking to the car.

 

“Be careful!” she couldn’t not say, before closing the door a bit too roughly.

 

“She is quite a character, isn’t she?” Castiel commented.

 

“You don’t even know… that woman scares me more than any monsters I’ve ever faced.”

 

“She would…” Castiel answered with a chuckle as they drove off.

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

The room Dean had booked them was adorned with a single bed instead of the usual two. Castiel was both surprised and not. He didn’t want to assume they’d be sleeping in the same bed again tonight, and he thought Dean would not be comfortable enough to ask for such a room. If they were to have been drifting on the same bed when it came time to sleep, then it wouldn’t have been anybody’s business.

 

Dean shot his friend a quick glance, wanting to make sure the sleeping arrangements were still ok. Castiel only gave a small nod and smile, secretly elated by Dean’s decision. He knew this little thing they had would come to an end soon enough, but he wanted to take anything he could as long as it was offered.

 

“Pizza sounds good?” Dean asked while browsing through the motel’s provided pamphlets.

 

“Yes. All-dressed?”

 

“Extra bacon!” the man added with a smile, his ear on the receiver.

 

While Dean was ordering their pizza, Castiel put the beers they had bought in the mini-fridge, then dug in his duffel to fetch his sleeping clothes.

 

“I will take a shower before dinner gets here.” he said to his friend, entering the bathroom.

 

“Don’t use all the hot water.” Dean called from the room.

 

“If you’re so worried about it, just come in now.”

 

He had meant it as a joke, of course. Even if, deep down, he kind of wished Dean would take him up on his offer. He was not even surprised that his mock-invitation would not be acknowledged. Still, he washed quickly, working extra hard to ignore his dick who had perked up at the thought of Dean joining in, even if it was unlikely to happen.

 

Castiel was back in the room in less than 10 minutes, only with an old pair of Dean’s sweatpants and toweling the water from his hair, the t-shirt he had neglected to put on hanging from the pants elastic band.

 

“The bathroom is all yours. There should be plenty of hot water left.”

 

“Mmmh, yeah, ok… thanks!” mumbled Dean, transfixed by his friend’s display of skin. Luckily, he could avert his eyes and get to the bathroom before Castiel was ever aware of Dean ogling him. “Money’s on the TV for the pizza.”

 

Still toweling his hair, Castiel only hummed in assentiment, keeping his eyes closed. Dean couldn’t resist taking one last look at his friend’s toned back, appreciating how the muscles were moving underneath his skin, before closing the bathroom door. He then let out a shaky breath.

 

What the hell was happening to him? Castiel was his friend, but mostly, Castiel was a dude. If Dean could see and appreciate beauty in all its forms, there was a world of difference between seeing and wanting. He could see when a man was good looking, as he could see the same on women. But his desires never were for the masculine form, only the feminine. So he had to wonder what it was that made his body crave the proximity and warmth of Cas’s.

 

It was probably the after-effects of the last weeks, plus the last couple of nights they had spent in close proximity. It was the best way he had found to keep the nightmares at bay. Or maybe it was Castiel’s evident interest in him that made Dean’s mind steer this way. He was not stupid, he knew his friend had grown very fond of him, judging by the tender kiss he had given him or that last bit about sharing the shower.

 

Yeah, Castiel might very well be in love with him and Dean felt like an asshole to be taking advantage of it. But he truly felt better when he was in Castiel’s arms and he had to admit that he felt safe and warm. Just as if nothing bad could ever happen again. Which was a bunch of crap, of course. And it sounded very much like a bad chick flick.

 

To be honest though, the latest ideas he had had about his friend were not so much of the chick flick kind but more like gay porn. And that was a first, in more ways than one. Still, it was also the same, in his own mind anyways. It was sex, and he knew how that felt. Hands on his skin, a mouth on his cock, a tongue on his balls. Castiel’s hands, mouth, tongue…

 

Dean’s hands found their way down to his cock and balls on their own accord, acting as if they were those of the former angel kneeling in Dean’s fantasy. There was no real mouth, only Dean’s own soap slicked hand, rapidly stroking the shaft, the thumb caressing the tip every now and then. With his other hand, he teased his balls, letting a finger or two brush against his hole.

 

“Dean, the pizza’s here!” shouted Castiel from right outside the bathroom door.

 

“Oh ffff… fuck… Shiiiiiiit!” stuttered Dean, coming on the tiles at the sound of Castiel’s voice, quickly biting his lower lip to shut himself off before crying out his friend’s name. He took a minute to catch his breath before rinsing the traces of his pleasure from the shower wall and himself. He couldn’t imagine what it could be like if Castiel had been an active participant and had said anything remotely sexy just now.

 

Ok, so maybe he liked Cas a bit more than he thought. Or maybe he was just incredibly horny. Whatever it was, the only thing he knew for sure was that he had to keep it to himself. He was smart enough to know his head might not be in its right place at the moment.

 

Both men spent the evening on the bed in sweatpants and t-shirts, their official sleeping gears, eating pizza and drinking beer while enjoying a Star Trek marathon. Dean was glad they were watching the original episodes and he felt the need to educate Castiel in the wonders of the USS Enterprise and its crew. He wasn’t surprise to see his friend take a liking to Spock, as Dean himself had always thought the two shared a great number of qualities.

 

If they had started the evening nowhere close on the bed, it was a king size after all, it didn’t take long after the pizza was done with for the men to find themselves in each other’s arms. They didn’t talk about it, it just happened, getting closer and closer while enjoying the classic tv show. Not that either of them was even close to sleepy, but it was as though it had become their natural state. And since none of them said anything about it, they just each decided they were ok with it.

 

“Did you call Charlie?” Castiel asked during a commercial break.

 

“Yeah, when you were in the shower.” Dean answered, not moving his head from Castiel’s chest.

 

“So I guess she is ok?”

 

“Yup. All is good, told her we’d probably be back by noon tomorrow.”

 

“Probably?”

 

“Yeah, depends what time we leave tomorrow.”

 

Castiel silently nodded and started brushing his friend’s hair with his fingers, lightly scratching his nails on his scalp. “That’s new!” Dean thought, letting out a soft moan. Castiel’s hand stilled at the sound but for only a fraction of a second. He went back to petting his hair but no nails, only the pads of his fingers.

 

Castiel couldn’t certainly risk getting a boner with his friend lying across his chest. It was already difficult to control his urges, he wouldn’t make it more difficult on himself by having Dean make happy noises. Lucky for him, Castiel’s attentions seemed to be making the hunter sleepy fairly quickly. He himself fell asleep shortly after, listening to the hunter’s steady breathing.

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

The trip back to Lebanon took less time then the drive out, eager as they were to find and rescue Sam.

 

“You know, I was thinking about something.” Dean said as they were almost at the bunker.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You think you could take Gadreel’s grace like you did the other guy?”

 

Castiel thought about it. He knew what Dean was asking, but sadly, he doubted that could work with Gadreel.

 

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. When my grace was taken from me, I became trapped in this body, it became mine. I killed Theo pretty quickly after I took his grace but I’m pretty sure he would have been stuck in the body he had possessed. I’m not sure we should take the chance to see your brother’s soul be obliterated by letting an graceless angel get trapped in his body. Gadreel will have to be ejected with his grace.”

 

“Right…”

 

They got to the bunker about 10 minutes later. Everything was still standing, which was not really a surprise, and everything seemed in its place inside as well.

 

“Charlie?” Dean called after closing the garage door behind him.

 

“In the library, guys!” she yelled back.

 

The two men followed the long hall to reach the library, setting their duffel bags on the first unoccupied table. They were greeted by Charlie’s arms around their necks, bringing them both in a slightly awkward three-way hug.

 

“So so so happy to see you guys, this place is creepy with a side of spooky. Don’t ever leave me here alone again.” she chided them, a frown on her face.

 

“Promise.” Dean answered warmly. “We have everything we need, we should be able to find Sam soon. So… I think you should go, Charlie.” he added, now in a more serious tone.

 

“What? Why?”

 

“Well, we’re just about to bring back the guy that killed Kevin and is keeping Sam hostage. He’s bad news and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you because of me. You could either go back to Oz, or to a motel in town. If we’re lucky enough, everything will be safe again tomorrow for you to come back.”

 

“Sure I can’t help?”

 

“You already helped a lot, Charlie.” Castiel offered, smiling. “But Dean is right, it could get dangerous and we might not be able to protect you.”

 

“You seem to forget that I was the one to take out the witch last time. If it wasn’t for me...” Charlie started to say, her arms crossed on her chest.

 

“I know, I know, you’re very capable of taking care of yourself. But I lost Kevin, and I can’t lose you too.”

 

“Please, Charlie?” pleaded Castiel.

 

“Fine, fine, I’ll go!” she finally huffed. “But you better be letting me know what’s happening because if I don’t hear from you, I’ll be coming right back.”

 

“We will, it’s a promise.” Castiel answered, visibly relieved.

 

She picked-up her shoulder bag, laptop and a couple of books she wanted to check out, then headed for the stairs.

 

“As soon as I know where I’ll sleep, I’ll let you know. So long, bitches! And… I love you guys.” she said with a wink before leaving the bunker.

 

“We know! Dean replied with a wink himself. “Ok… now what?” he added, now facing his friend.

 

“Now we sit and make a plan. We need to make sure Gadreel won’t elude or escape us.” Castiel replied, now sounding more like the soldier he once was. “Let’s go over what we need and see if we are missing anything.”

 

Dean and Castiel sat in the library for many hours, strategizing, compiling, researching. It was close to dinner time when they finally were satisfied with their plan of action.

 

“We should eat and then sleep a little before setting the plan in motion.” Dean suggested, patting his belly. Castiel eyed him suspiciously.

 

“Sleeping, Dean? I thought you’d want Sam to come back as soon as possible?” he argued, even though he didn’t really want to.

 

“I do. But I think we will also need to be well rested and alert to take this on. We were up early, haven’t eaten all day and have spent the last three hours making war plans. I think we need it. I know I do.” Dean countered, hoping he wasn’t sounding too desperate.

 

There was another reason why he wanted to go to sleep, but he didn’t feel like sharing it with his friend. Dean was beyond scared that this would all be for nothing. He was petrified at the thought that his baby brother could be trapped inside his own dying body. Even worse, maybe he wasn’t even there anymore, they couldn’t know for sure.

 

So he needed to calm down, find a bit of peace and anchor himself. And the only way he could do that was to spend some time in the shelter of Castiel’s arms, immersed in his warmth and smell. It was that, or getting shit-faced, which would be more harmful than not.

 

“Indeed, we do need to be at our best for this. Anything in particular you want to eat?” Castiel asked, not really expecting an answer.

 

“Nah, whatever you want.”

 

There wasn’t much more left to eat in the kitchen, so there wasn’t much choice. All that was left were beef stew in a can, a box of mac & cheese, instant rice and a single frozen steak. He decided to make the macaroni since it was the only thing there’d be enough for two. It wasn’t the healthiest food they could eat, but he was certain neither of them would want to go to the store at this time. He wondered if he should add the steak in the pasta but since it was very much frozen, he decided against it.

 

While mac & cheese was one of Dean’s least favorite meals, he was still appreciative when Castiel placed a full bowl in front of him.

 

“Sorry, there isn’t much food left… if you’re still hungry after this, there is a can of beef stew I could heat up.”

 

“This should be fine, thanks Cas.” answered the hunter with a gentle smile.

 

They ate in silence, both thinking about what was coming next but without saying a word about it. Each in their own mind, they were delighted to have a reason to spend some more time attached to the other.

 

And so they did, as soon as their meal was finished. They didn’t take the time to bring back the bowls in the kitchen, they just went to Dean’s room in a mutual (silent) agreement. They didn’t bother putting on pj’s, taking off most of their clothes to end up with nothing more than boxers and an undershirt. They went to bed spooning, Dean again as the small spoon because he still needed to feel somewhat protected.

 

It wasn’t the first time they fell asleep in this manner but it was certainly the first time Dean felt the need to merge his fingers with those splayed on his belly. He felt Castiel’s breath fasten, as well as the thrumming of his heart. A familiar warmth settled low in his belly as he brought Castiel’s hand to his lips and kissed the palm almost reverently.

 

“Good night, Cas.” Dean said, bringing back their hands down, lower than they had been before, right at the hem of his shorts.

 

“Good night, Dean.” Castiel croaked, his lips dangerously close to Dean’s neck. Not putting his mouth or tongue on his friend’s hot and tender skin was one of the most difficult thing Castiel had ever been confronted with.

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

Castiel woke up less than 3 hours later, sporting a massive erection. He was surprised it hadn’t happened before today, actually. Of course, he was in the worst position ever to have one, spooning with his best friend, his dick furiously trying to poke a hole in Dean’s boxers. Castiel wriggled to move his body, but mostly his crotch, away from his friend.

 

He had to stifle a whine when Dean suddenly shot his pelvis back and started lightly grinding on his crotch. Castiel tried again to send his body back without waking the other man. But he was shocked when Dean sent his hand back to Castiel’s hip to keep him from moving away and started rocking his hips onto his again.

 

“Dean?” breathed Cas.

 

“Shut up!” was all Dean said, but he took back Castiel’s hand and brought it to his mouth and licked it. When it was wet enough, he brought both hands down inside his boxers to grab his erection. Dean’s hand covering Castiel’s, he guided him, stroking his member just how he liked it, all the while positioning his hips so Castiel’s dick would slide against his crack when he rutted against it.

 

Dean’s hand soon left Castiel’s to its own experimentations. He then brought it to Castiel’s hip again and shoved the former angel’s boxer down as much as he could. He did the same for his own shorts and both men moaned loudly at the sensation of their skins coming together.

 

Up until this point, Castiel has been following Dean’s lead, letting the other man decide about the how and where. But this was too much, he had to move. He found his own rhythm grinding against Dean’s ass, the sliding getting smoother thanks to precome and sweat. He licked his lips and finally, finally, gave into fiercely sucking at the soft freckled skin of his friend’s neck.

 

“Aah! Cas!” gasped Dean, grasping Castiel’s hand on his dick again, enticing him to accelerate his stroking tempo.

 

Both men were breathing heavily, rutting and rubbing, cadences amiss as they were getting closer to completion. Castiel came first, his cries muffled by his biting into Dean’s neck, who followed soon after with his own release and a deep groan.

 

It wasn’t calculated or well thought of, but Dean needed more so he turned his head to face Castiel’s and captured his friend’s mouth with his, almost desperately. The kiss was sloppy and wet, a mess of tongues, lips and teeth, but it was still perfect and it ended as abruptly as it started. Dean turned back around and took off his undershirt. He used it to clean himself, before pulling his boxers back up. Castiel did the same with his own and both men dropped their dirty shirts on the floor.

 

“Let’s sleep a bit more?” whispered Dean while bringing the covers over their shivering bodies.

 

“Ok.” Castiel agreed before kissing his neck one last time.

 

“Sleep, Cas…” Dean repeated, bringing back Castiel’s hand to rest on his abdomen.

 

• • • • • • • • • •

 

They had slept another 2 hours and this time, when they woke up, it was all about business. It was time to bring Sam back home and get rid of the angel riding his bones.

 

While Castiel was gathering the ingredients they needed, Dean made a quick run to the store for some more basic things, like food, coffee and beer.

 

The former angel was back in the room with the sigils Kevin had drawn and was correcting any of the mistakes Gadreel has coerced the prophet into making. Dean came in the room with coffees and doughnuts and set them on the small table Castiel had brought in.

 

“We will need to wash some of them out and redraw them. They can’t be salvaged.”

 

“Fine, mark them and I’ll go get the cleaning stuff.”

 

It took them a couple of hours to make the room perfect. The sigils were finally right and there was a ring of holy oil as big as they could make it so they’d have the best chance in trapping the angel in it. Both men knew where to stand and what they needed to say or do when the angel was to appear before them.

 

Castiel was in charge of igniting the oil while Dean had to quickly reach out to his brother while the sigils prevented the angel to be in total control. They didn’t have much time so they had to work fast.

 

If they failed, they had another plan, which neither of them wished they’d have to fall back on. But it was probably their last hope. Dean would have to stab his brother with an angel sword, killing Gadreel but making sure not to kill his brother in the process. They didn’t know if it would work like it had for Bobby and the demon that had possessed him, but it was either that or keeping the angel trapped in the ring of fire until they found something else.

 

“I’ll update Charlie then we can start, all right?”

 

“Ready when you are.”

 

The whole operation took less time than they had expected and it was pretty much anti-climatic, really. The summoning spell worked perfectly. Sam, or rather Gadreel, manifested right smack in the middle of the ring of holy oil, which Castiel lit up swiftly.

 

“Dean, Cas, what the hell?” spluttered Sam, evidently in control, or at least Dean hoped it was really him this time.

 

“Sam, just listen, ok? You were dying, I had to make a choice, I gave an angel permission to trick you into saying yes so he could heal you from the inside. He’s not who he said he was and now you need to evict him or we’ll lose you forever.”

 

“How? What? WHAT?”

 

“Fuck… I don’t know… Cas?”

 

“Just say he is not welcome anymore, it should make him…”

 

“YOU ARE NOT WELCOME ANYMORE… hum… ANGEL!”

 

Castiel poured salt over a small portion of the ring so the angel could leave Sam’s body. Thankfully, all they had planned worked as it should have, Sam finally being free and seemingly not in a dying state.

 

Even the punch that Sam threw at his brother’s face was somewhat part of the plan. Certainly not wanted, but expected nonetheless. While Castiel made sure to put out the remainder of the fire, Dean got up to run after his brother and try to explain himself. And mostly, he had to tell him about Kevin.

 

Dean’s heart was racing, from his short jog around the bunker to find his brother but also at the prospect of the impending conversation. At that very moment, he didn’t care about how much Sam would be pissed at him, or how hurt his feelings would be. He dreaded having to explain how it was Sam’s hands that were the ones to kill the prophet.

 

Dean found his brother in his room, packing his duffel as quickly as possible.

 

“Sam!” Dean called breathlessly from the door.

 

“I need to go and clear my head. Don’t come in, I feel like I could be punching you some more.”

 

“Then do it, I don’t care. But don’t go, not yet. There’s stuff you need to know first…”

 

“You pretty much said it all.”

 

“No, I didn’t…” Dean said, a break in his voice.

 

Sam was furious, incredibly so, but he could not ignore his brother’s plea since it sounded so desperate. He let out a deep sigh.

 

“What is it, Dean?” he finally said, turning to face his sibling.

 

“It’s… It’s Kevin… he’s… the angel… he killed him, Sam!” Dean finally stuttered, looking at the floor, incapable of facing his brother.

 

“What?” Sam’s tone was menacing.

 

He didn’t repeat it, knowing very well Sam had heard and he couldn’t bear saying it again.

 

“How?” Sam then said, approaching his brother.

 

Throat jammed tight, Dean brought his right hand to his brother’s forehead and pushed, hoping it would be explanation enough.

 

“His eyes burned…” Dean finally croaked before letting the tears flow free.

 

“Oh my God… I remember…” Sam breathed suddenly. “I remember… Dean…” he repeated, louder. “Where is he? Where’s Kevin?”

 

“He’s dead Sa…”

 

“I fucking know he’s dead! WHERE. IS. HE?” Sam snarled at his brother.

 

“In the back… there were already… monuments there.”

 

“I’m taking one of the bikes. I’ll go away for some time, I need to… not be around you.”

 

“Yeah, I thought you would. But take a car at least, it’s winter, you’ll freeze to death.”

 

Sam just nodded, picked-up his bag and walked past him without so much of a glance.

 

“Sammy…”

 

“You DON’T get to call me that, not now, if ever again! I’ll contact you when I’m ready. For now, just… let me be.”

 

Dean watched his brother leave the room and let his body sink on the bed, shaking. It had actually gone better than he thought, seeing as he was still breathing and with all his limbs intact. He wished they could have talked more, especially now knowing his brother had some memories of the angel’s doing. Who knew what else Gadreel had done since he had left the bunker?

 

He felt the panic settling in his gut once more, his palms getting sweaty and the shaking getting worse. He got up and went back to his room, hoping Castiel would already be there. At this very moment, he felt the man was the only thing that could help him stay afloat.

 

Of course, the former angel wasn’t there, but Dean still needed to get in bed and crawl under the covers. “Sammy… Sam… isn’t dead, he’s ok, all’s ok.” he repeated to himself incessantly, trying to calm himself down as much as possible. But the ultimate relief came when he felt Castiel’s arms finally snake around him from behind.

 

This time, he didn’t want to be a spoon. He wanted to face his friend, he needed to look him in the eyes, needed to have someone look at him as if we wasn’t the awful person he felt he was. Castiel could give him that, and he would give more if he asked, he just knew it.

 

But he settled to just face him, bringing their foreheads together and losing himself in his friend’s unfathomable stare. Castiel couldn’t resist bringing his hand to Dean’s hip, stroking gently the skin over the hem of his jeans with his thumb. It was sweet and pure, made to be reassuring, not to seduce.

 

“I talked to Sam before he left.” whispered Castiel, his breath tickling Dean’s lips they were so close.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I told him Charlie was in town, so he will go to the same motel. And I called her, she’s expecting him.”

 

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean said, giving a small peck on his friend’s mouth.

 

“It will be alright Dean, he just needs some time.”

 

“I know.”

 

They didn’t say anything else, their eyes locked to one another. Castiel licked his lips before also giving a small kiss on the other man’s lips. He could try to argue that he wanted to make Dean feel better, but he was never the best liar. He needed to feel Dean’s lips on his. And maybe he kissed him a bit longer than what his friend had done a second ago. And he really didn’t feel bad about it.

 

It seemed Dean didn’t mind either as he brought his whole body closer, making their chests, groins, legs and feet come together. There was no more space between them and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Face to face, softly breathing each other’s air, feeling theirs hearts thumping in harmony.

 

Castiel took his hand from Dean’s hip to his face, brushing his knuckles on his stubbled cheek before carding his fingers in his hair. Dean made the same mouvements, discovering the feeling of his friend’s hair in his hand for the first time and loving it.

 

“Everything will be ok, Dean.” Castiel breathed on his lips. “I love you.”

 

Dean wasn’t surprised by the words, and he wasn’t afraid either, but he didn’t know how to answer. So he just kissed him, hoping it would be enough to say all that he couldn’t.

 

If not, then he’d just keep kissing him until it was as clear as day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title was one of the first thing I thought of, was actually thinking of the Eagles version of the song... (I learned that Jon Bon Jovi covered it as well while researching).
> 
> The original credit though belongs to Charles Brown. So, there you go... 
> 
> As for any other credit, anything pertaining to the Supernatural universe isn't mine. Just having fun with them (I'll put them back in the box, promise).


End file.
